


Good morning, my dear boy

by ZimVader0017



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Awake the Snake (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, do not copy to other sites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZimVader0017/pseuds/ZimVader0017
Summary: It is finally July. What are our angel and demon up to?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47
Collections: AwakeTheSnake





	Good morning, my dear boy

"I'm setting the alarm clock to July. Goodnight, angel." 

That was two months ago. Aziraphale had made all of the cake recipes he had found in his collection of books. The young gentlemen who had gone earlier to burglarize had been returning from time to time in order to deliver the cakes he had made to people around the neighborhood. They really had seen the error of their ways, not that the angel really blamed them after he learned later on why they had attempted to rob him. Poor things had lost their jobs like most people had because of the pandemic and had gotten desperate. 

He had been paying them for their delivery services, and so far it was going very well. Especially now that the country was slowly reopening. 

Speaking of which, that meant he could go out and about now, wearing appropriate protection of course. Nevermind that he was an ethereal being who would realistically not get sick, but he was an angel and he should serve to be an example. 

Picking up a wonderful angel cake he had made for the occasion, he placed it into a box and set it on the desk while he put on his gloves and mask. He closed up the shop and began his walk towards Mayfair. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

The alarm was shrill in the silence of the mostly empty Mayfair flat. There was a grumble coming from under the luxurious silk bed sheets. A thin hand emerged from under the sheets and fumbled for the smartphone laying on the side table. Glaring yellow eyes followed, squinting against the light of the screen. Bollocks, he should have picked a better position to sleep in, his back was killing him. 

He stretched his arms over his head, popping his back and shaking his unused limbs. At least it wasn't as bad as when he took that century long nap. He had a crick in his neck for weeks. 

He headed over to his bathroom to wash off the stiffness in his bones, idly thinking about putting on a pot of coffee. He stopped when he saw his reflection. Ah, he had forgotten to stop hair growth while sleeping. He now had a beard and his hair was as long as it had been when he was handed over the basket holding the antichrist. He decided to deal with it after his much anticipated warm shower. 

He had just dried himself and put on comfortable clothes when his doorbell rang. What was peculiar about it was that he did not have a doorbell previously, so that only meant one person was behind that door. 

"Crowley? My dear boy, are you awake?" 

He had been correct, it  _ was  _ Aziraphale behind that door. 

"Coming!" 

He was already opening the door when he remembered that he hadn't shaved or cut his hair just yet, but it was too late now. 

Aziraphale paused and his eyes roved over his appearance. And that's the only thing Crowley knew since the angel's face was half covered by a mask. He looked down and noticed the box in his hands.

"You said that you had a case of 'something drinkable' that could go with my cakes, so I brought you one. May I come in?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I was about to go into the kitchen anyway." 

He led the angel through the flat to the modern kitchen. There he watched him place the cake on a display stand he definitely did not own before today while he bypassed the coffee machine to get to the built in wine cellar in the back. He came out with a nice Riesling wine* and went on to get some glasses while Aziraphale arranged the plates on the kitchen island. 

"So….Did you catch up with your reading, angel?" 

"Oh, yes! I even read some of the books Adam left for me when he restored the bookshop." 

Aziraphale took a dainty forkful of cake and moaned happily. When he opened his eyes he found serpent eyes locked onto him, unblinking. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses, he didn't have to in front of his angel and certainly not while in his own home. Of course, he knew Crowley liked to watch him eat. It was no secret and he  _ had  _ said that he wanted to watch him eat cake, but most of the time his eyes were covered or both of them were too drunk to really be bothered. 

It was because of this that he had never noticed how soft his gaze was and how his pupils would dilate just a tiny bit, barely noticeable. He knew that Crowley didn't like his eyes because they were scary for humans, but to him they were beautiful.

"My dear." 

Crowley blinked, pulled out of a trance. 

"Yes, angel?" 

"I believe I haven't told you before, but your eyes are quite lovely." 

Crowley blushed and looked away. 

"They're not….Demon eyes…..not lovely"

Aziraphale leaned over and took his face in his hand, turning it back toward him. 

"Now why would you think that?" 

"Because it's true!" 

"Not the way I see it. Do you want to know what I see? I see a very handsome demon sitting in front of me, and I don't only mean physically." 

He smiled a bit teasingly while he said: "In fact, I would say that he is just as _nice_ on the outside as he is on the inside." 

Crowley snorted and finally pulled his face away. His face was itchy and when he scratched it he remembered the scruffy beard that was growing in. 

"You caught me at a bad time, I was going to shave and cut my hair, put proper clothes on...." He gestured at his comfy plain t-shirt and joggers. 

"That's not necessary, it's only me visiting you. Unless you want to go out now that they're finally allowing it." 

"It's only me visiting, he says. And, no. Maybe later. Don't feel up to it right now." 

He picked at his slice of cake while he thought about something. 

"Say, angel." 

"Hmm?" 

"Am I allowed to hunker down in your bookshop now?" 

**Author's Note:**

> *Watch me, a person who doesn't drink alcohol, searching Google and reading articles about wine to see which one matched better with angel cake. Most agreed with Riesling as being the most appropriate, although I was tempted to make a joke and pick the second one they recommended which was "Vin Santo" or Holy Wine, but reading further they suggested it was better with denser fruit cakes than fluffy angel cakes.
> 
> Of course, Crowley had to have a scruffy beard. Have you seen David in Broadchurch? 
> 
> Was going to be sillier, but I had to be a sap and include in a scene where Aziraphale is making Crowley feel appreciated. Also, yes, Aziraphale removed his mask once he crossed the threshold. He wasn't going to contaminate anyone, much less Crowley, but he was determined to lead by example. 
> 
> (I also might be a tad annoyed by people refusing to wear masks for no legitimate reason. I have chronic respiratory problems, I haven't gone outside since mid March. If you don't have any condition that prevents you from wearing a mask like panic attacks, anxiety, are sensitive to having things near your face because you're autistic, etc., please wear a mask to protect people like me.)


End file.
